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Tuesday, October 29, 2013

In the case of Julian Barnes’ The Sense of an Ending,
the title says it all. I think. What
does it mean? Confused? So am I.
I finished this short novel and enjoyed it immensely. But I’m not sure I totally get it, and, of
course, I can’t ask you at this time to give me your thoughts on it.

Our protagonist, Tony Webster, is about my age. He grew up in a time I am totally familiar
with and totally at home reading about.
I recognize so much of what he says and what he does. Perhaps every age sits with a kind of smug
philosophical elitism feeling contempt for those considered too plebeian to see
the truth about life as clearly as they do.
“Understanding the world” and denigrating it as it currently is usually
occurs over a beer. At any rate, Tony
and his three friends see themselves as young philosophers throwing around
German terms and names of established philosophers as a way of affirming their
superiority over the masses. The best
thinker among them is Adrian, and
he is respected by his peers.

Adrian eventually
becomes the center of life’s puzzle for Tony whose own life and loves turn into
what he himself terms ordinary: a university girlfriend, Veronica, who
eventually chooses Adrian, a failed
marriage where he retains the friendship of his former wife, Margaret, a
daughter and grandchild. As a retiree,
he volunteers in a hospital library.

When he asks Margaret over a friendly lunch if she left him because of him, she enigmatically replies that she left him "because of us."

Life is never really ordinary, and this book is about
growing up, remembering back in whatever way we are capable, being deeply hurt
and deeply hurting others, and trying to finally understand what life is all
about.

Tony tells his story, so there is so much about truth and
about the other characters to which we are not privy. Additionally, there is the always constant
question about what is history? What is
memory? How accurate is either?

And I, always interested in the title’s meaning, am not
quite sure I get it. Veronica tells Tony
he “will never get it.” What’s “it”?

Indeed, this book was suggested by my sister-in-law with the
warning that it is “different.” She
wanted to discuss it when I was done, and I would like to discuss it with her
too. I want to see how she viewed The
Sense of an Ending. I’d like to
discuss it with any of you who have read it too.

Despite my questions, I highly recommend this novel. It’s thoroughly intriguing. It’s short and reads easily. Barnes has a flowing, descriptive style, and
I got to really know Tony Webster and to understand his dilemma. But because of the first person narration, I
never understood some of the other characters because Tony never does. Oh well, it is so nice to dwell on a book as
much as I’ve been dwelling on this one.

Here are some of my favorite quotations:

“…of course we were pretentious—what else is youth for?”

“…we knew we grasped life—and truth, and morality, and
art….”

“…our fear: that Life wouldn’t turn out to be like
Literature.”

Do you remember feeling and thinking like that? I do.

And then the truth about the “sixties”—

“If you’ll excuse a brief history lesson: most people didn’t
experience “the sixties” until the seventies.
Which meant, logically, that most people in the sixties were still
experiencing the fifties—or, in my case, bits of both decades side by side. Which made things rather confusing.”

How did I know that summer that Woodstock
would be what Woodstock
became? I think (after this book I’m not
so sure) I remember what it was as it was happening.

Here’s a very poignant definition:

“…remorse. A feeling
which is more complicated, curdled and primeval. Whose chief characteristic is that nothing
can be done about it: too much time has passed, too much damage has been done,
for amends to….”

Wow! That is a wakeup
call.

Here’ the retired-in-his 60s-Tony. How painful is this:

“Sometimes I think the purpose of life is to reconcile us to
its eventual loss by wearing us down, by proving, however long it takes, that
life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

Several times during the novel, Tony hums or sings "Time is On Our Side." I well remember this song and sang along. But here's another question: Is it?

In the end I was deeply touched, quite nostalgic, and
somewhat puzzled. I think I will
continue to ponder the meaning of Barnes’ title as I try to get The
Sense of an Ending.

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

I loved my first visit to Amsterdam. It was so unlike the city I expected—I won’t
go into my foolishness here—and I found the city absolutely charming. A young friend, Scott M., recently told me that
the best way to see Amsterdam is to
walk it, and that is exactly how we introduced ourselves to the colorful and
historic city we visited on a three-day pre-cruise extension to our Viking
Grand European River Cruise.

Getting to know Amsterdam
in even this short span made it very clear why during their Golden Age in the
17th century the Dutch were one of the most powerful peoples in the
world. There is a saying in the Netherlands
(basically meaning below land) that “God created the world but the Dutch created the Netherlands.”

First dikes and then
the windmills introduced from Mesopotamia in the 16th
century made it possible to create this country from beneath the seas.

Perhaps you think the first thing that impressed me was the
canals, but no. I loved the buildings! They are beautiful. Amsterdam is extraordinarily colorful, clean, and vibrant. As I never tire of being awed by aspects of
my travels, I was awed by the history of these beautiful buildings.

Amazingly, every building in Amsterdam
is a meter below sea level at high tide.
Buildings were constructed on now-ancient wooden pillars sunk 14 feet deep. The pillars were made from trees harvested and transported from Scandinavia
and the Black Forest.
The pillars do not rot as long as they have no contact with air. Pretty remarkable when you take a moment to
consider man’s genius.

The buildings are old—many date back to the 1500 and 1600s,
so for an American, these dates are impressive in themselves. Because land is so precious in the Netherlands,
at one time buildings were taxed on their width—how much land they occupied—so
builders concentrated on tall, narrow structures. Most are three or four stories high and so
narrow that they could not accommodate elevators in their modernizations and renovations.

That means that much of Amsterdam
is also a city for the young who can climb the stairs; elderly people move out. We saw some but relatively few young
families. I’m sure there’s a problem in lugging “family paraphernalia” up those
stairs too. The youthfulness of this
ancient city accounts in large measure for the vibrancy of the shops and pace
and innovative ways of living along the canals’ edges. It’s pretty exciting.

Additionally, and quite wonderfully for us tourists to learn,
is that attached to the outside of the top floor of each building is a winch or
hook of some kind. With the narrow
stairways, furniture is moved in and out of apartments via the windows. Up the outside of the building and then in to
the apartment! We didn’t see this
occurring, but that would have been pretty cool if we had.

Do you see the hook outside the top window?Look at the other photos and see that each building has somethingsimilar to this.

Some buildings were actually built on a slight angle—out toward the narrow
street—so moving furniture would not rub against the abutting building. Details, details, details.

If you look at the blue building with the red shutters, you might beable to see that it juts forward just a touch.

The buildings are colorful in all the shades of browns and burgundies
and tans imaginable, with steep black rooves (ok, I’m dating myself with that spelling,
but this is my blog, isn’t it?), and some uncluttered windows. I asked our wonderful walking tour guide, Marieke,
about the curtainless windows, and she suggested the habit goes back to a more
religious period when the idea was to show a plain and humble life. In any case, the result is shining glass
panels twinkling in the sun or, on the lower levels, a peek into a
household.

But just so you don’t believe that all of Amsterdam
is set in the distant past, other parts are ultra-modern in architectural
style.

Our hotel, The Movenpick

Shall we call this New Amsterdam?

Quite a difference!

I am so glad we did not think of Amsterdam
simply as a launching site for our cruise.
I would like to return and see more of this very interesting country.

Friday, October 11, 2013

There are still some windmills like this left in the Netherlands, and visiting them and seeing how theywork is quite something. This entire country is an amazement!It says so much about man's ingenuity.

Wednesday, October 09, 2013

Some things are just meant to be, and for us it was a visit
toBuz and Ned's Real Barbecuein Richmond,
Virginia.
If you watch the Travel Channel, you know about the Barbecue Crawl. Rob and I do our own when we travel, and I’ve
written about many different delicious

barbecue places we’ve encountered. If the place is really up to snuff, it is
filled with locals we let get ahead of us on line as we try to make sense out
of the menu and watch what other people are ordering. It’s a mad game. It’s never the same, and if we play it well,
our taste buds get the rewards. Barbecue
is an art practiced by very individual artists.

Our encounter with Buz and Ned’s actually began as a
takeout. We were heading to Richmond
to visit my cousins Rita and Bruce in Richmond,
VA, and knowing our penchant for barbecue,
Rita said she’d bring in takeout barbecue when we arrived. As we sat eating the different BBQ offerings,
we learned they came from Buz and Ned’s, Rita and Bruce’s favorite BBQ
takeout.

The name apparently lodged like a little bubble in my brain
for several days later when we and our son Michael headed for the Movieland Cinema, we passed Buz and Ned’s. I mentioned to
Michael that we’d had glorious BBQ takeout from there. He told us he had heard great things about Buz
and Ned’s barbecue from Richmond
friends but thus far had not gotten over here.

Voilà! The next day the three of us headed to Buz and Ned’s
for lunch.

The menu and choices are a bit overwhelmingto us newcomers.

Buz and Ned’s was crowded!
Line up, place your order at the window, receive a number and wait until
you’re called. Simple if you know what
you’re doing. The menu is long and
tempting, and we let quite a few people get ahead of us on line as we tried to
choose.

The decor is simple. Plain, high wooden tables and bar stool height seats. Food is served in plastic baskets lined with paper. Believe me, no one minds the informality. The customers are there for barbecue.

Eat any size portion from appetizer size to small meals, to
large meals, to full racks of ribs.
Choose from 14 different sides.
Dozens of beverages from fresh squeezed lemonade to single barrel
bourbons! What makes choosing more
difficult is that everything that passed by us looked great!

Amazingly, if you REALLY yearned for it, you could buy
Nathan’s hotdogs! You could also choose
as a side our very favorite, Rt. 11 Potato Chips! So I also count Buz and Ned’s as a gourmet
restaurant!!!!!

We three went for the SMALL complete meal (one sandwich as
opposed to the Large’s two sandwiches).
These sandwiches were stuffed! We
tried the pulled pork and the beef brisket.
Each meal also included a choice of two sides like my two: hush puppies
and baked beans. There were also
Cinnamon Bourbon Apples (sounded very tempting), Cuke & Onion Salad, and
the usual-sounding but not necessarily usual cole slaw, potato salad, and
french fries. If these choices were not
already overwhelming, for an additional $.99 we could choose Fresh Country
Greens, Mac and 3 cheeses, Sweet Potato Fries (w/cinnamon and sugar) or some
other tantalizing possibilities.

We drank beer and did not try Buz and Ned’s Hard
Lemonade.

The general opinion: Buz and Ned’s deserves its
reputation. Had our visit to Richmond
been longer, we would have returned to work on the rib menu—both pork and
beef. I wonder if Buz and Ned’s ever
sells its desserts. I don’t know how
anyone could have room left!

Visit the website.
You’ll find out that yes, Ned is dead, but he left his barbecue secrets
to Buz to pass down for us to enjoy. The
history is interesting, and it’s a good website to browse. But honestly, eating here is believing.

Wednesday, October 02, 2013

M.L. Stedman’s first novel, The Light Between the Oceans, is
a beautifully composed rendition of life at its cruelest, when justice for one
means tragic injustice for another.
There are no villains here, but there are victims, and Stedman’s tale
shoots out theme after theme making her readers take a serious look at what it
takes for some of us to make it through our daily lives. Read it but be prepared for tears.

Thomas Sherbourne returns from his WWI years on the Western
front a shattered man reminiscent of Hemingway’s Nick Adams—an existential man
trying to make an orderly life from the chaos surrounding him. What he had done during the war earned him
medals and only a superficial scar for others to see, but it shattered him
inside, filling the cracks with survivor’s guilt, and leaving him looking for a
steadying routine. The idea of duality
occurs time and again throughout the novel.

Tom finds the order he seeks on Janus Rock, an isolated
lighthouse 100 miles off the coast of Australia
in the treacherous Indian Ocean. (peace in the midst of upheaval) The detailed
routine of following the multitude of rules, keeping the signal light operating
at optimum condition, recording the minute details of time, weather, and other
observations force him to reintroduce a workable rhythm to his life and to make
some sense of his world. Difficult for
others, this life suited young Tom perfectly.

When he meets, falls in love, marries Isabel, and brings her
to Janus, he feels his life is as good as any man can have it, but after a
series of miscarriages and a stillborn baby, Isabel sinks into deep despair
until what she considers a miracle occurs.

Sorry friends, but you will have to read The Light Between
the Oceans yourself to move on from here and find out what Isabel considers a
miracle. Tom considered it more of a
mixed blessing, to say the least.

As Rob was not going
to read the novel, I told him the story as it unfolded, and he enjoyed its
retelling, the two of us guessing what was to happen next. We could not help it. This story has multi-barbed hooks for the
reader.

Stedman is a wonderful writer. She handles language beautifully, switching
tenses to bring immediacy to some sections and time for contemplation in
others. The story moves smoothly and delves
into a myriad of life’s possibilities:
war and its results, loss and recovery, love, man’s isolation—both
physically and psychologically, the big lie that cannot be withdrawn,
prejudice, forgiveness, and redemption.
I have probably left out some possibilities, but that’s already a lot to
cram into 342 pages and to do it well!

Hemingway’s Nick Adams going through the steadying routine
of fly-fishing in “Big Two-Hearted River” or Macbeth’s musing “Things without
all remedy/Should be done without regard/What’s done is done” come to mind
throughout the novel. These ideas are
universal in man; they do not change over time, and close as they are, Tom and
Isabel Sherbourne have to find their own paths through life’s vagaries once
each learns that life isn’t fair.

This is a novel worth reading, and I am looking forward to
M.L. Stedman’s next book.